


Timeless Whisper

by MISSYriver



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Heavy Angst, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Timeless/Ghost Whisper AU, ghost - Freeform, haunted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-30 22:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MISSYriver/pseuds/MISSYriver
Summary: My name is Lucy Preston. I am a history professor at Stanford University. I am on loan for a semester at San Diego State. I live alone. I might be just like you. Except from the time I was a little girl I knew I could talk to the dead. Earthbound spirits my grandmother called them. The ones who have not crossed over because they have unfinished business with the living and they come to me for help. In order to tell you my story, I have to tell you theirs.





	1. First Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> One day while minding my business, living the happy world of Tumblr rabbit hole. I spotted a post, I had to get closer. There it was a complex story plot with so much potential that it begged to be told. The story idea came from @desetoilesdslesyeux I've tweaked it a bit and probably will make it a bit darker then she original thought. I bing watched the first few season of Ghost Whisper cried a lot more than I care to admit but loved it. 
> 
> Now that NBC has crushed us with terrible news that for financial reason they did not renew Timeless. Ugh going to vomit hold on........ Okay I'M back but don't give up on our show just yet Sony is looking for a new home and if you love timeless as much as I do go sign a petition, send letters, whatever it takes. We know what we are fighting for and the a season 2. Big strong for each other. hugs to everyone. 
> 
> Big love to my Beta Ashley, thanking for keeping me in check.

**_My name is Lucy Preston. I am a history professor at Stanford University. I am on loan for a semester at San Diego State. I live alone. I might be just like you. Except from the time I was a little girl I knew I could talk to the dead. Earthbound spirits my grandmother called them. The ones who have not crossed over because they have unfinished business with the living and they come to me for help. In order to tell you my story, I have to tell you theirs._ **

Lucy was so glad she took Amy’s advice, she needed a night of fun after the long first week at a new school. The Pelican Bar was an upscaled tiki bar with strong drinks, deep fried food, but great music, and a packed dance floor. Lucy’s feet were killing her and she couldn't wait to get home and take a bath. Her tiny subleased apartment’s biggest amenity was the jacuzzi tub, that Lucy had been too tired to try out, so far. 

She couldn't wait to call and tell her sister that she had danced and even had a small drink. At home she didn't normally allow herself the luxury of being young, she worked hard to be more like her mother. Lucy had always done what was expected, and she liked things she could control. 

Lucy had only been in San Diego a little over a week; she relied heavily on her GPS, but tonight it had been acting up. Before long, Lucy realized she was completely lost. She could barely see past her headlights, the road was surrounded by trees and no streets lights. She looked down at her phone but the screen was black. 

“Oh come on, don’t do this,” she hissed to her dead phone. 

Lucy looked up at the road, a figure stood in the middle. Lucy screamed, slammed on the breaks; her tires squealed, she tried to hold the steering wheel straight, but she lost control of the car and started to slide along the guardrail. Loud angry metallic screaming and sparks flew up from the passenger side. Lucy eased her foot off the gas peddle and prayed. It only lasted for mere seconds but for Lucy it was an eternity, her heart still raced, her skin crawled, she was worried she would throw up.

Lucy slowly opened the driver's door, she moved cautiously, assessing how she felt, besides shaken. She was a little sore from hitting her head on the window, but other than a small bump, she felt fine. She stepped out of the car and had to hold on when her knees tried to buckle. The accident had flooded her body with adrenalin, now safe, the effects left her weak. 

Most of the damage to her car was on the passenger side, the rear door was caved in and would need to be forced open again. Large gouges ran along the side, and the window was cracked. The good news was that all the damage was to the frame and it might not be pretty but it would still drive. Her insurance could take care of getting it fixed. 

Lucy looked around the dark road, but the figure was gone, the road was empty. The forest around her was silent, a thick mist seeped through the trees onto the road. Less than an hour ago the San Diego August had been humid and in the high eighties, even at night. But here deep in the forest surround by mist and shadows, the temperature around her dropped, Lucy shivered and wished for her coat. 

Lucy’s shoulders tensed as the darkness around her engulfed the remaining light, the car headlights flickered and went dark. Even the overhead dome light went out. The silence was broken by leaves rustling behind her, Lucy spun but no one was there.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Lucy called into the dark, with no answer. 

A sudden gust of cold howling wind and leaves formed a large dust devil in the middle of the road. Lucy held up her hand to block the debris from her eyes. The wind whipped around her hair, her dress lashed around her legs, and it got stronger as it moved toward her. Lucy took a step back, but was stopped by her car. She turned away from the wind, Lucy tried to move to the open car door but wind rushed up from the other direction, strong enough to make her stumble toward the back of the car. Lucy held onto the frame of the car and pulled against the wind. As suddenly as it had started the wind died down and the woods went eerily quiet. 

Lucy stood up straight, she looked around but in the dim light she wasn’t able to make out anything. Lucy was looking down the road; goosebumps spread along her skin, the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and shiver ran down her spine. Lucy slowly turned her head around, and screamed.

The woman was inches away from her, her gray face caught in a silent scream. She was covered in mud and dirt, her blond hair tangled and matted with leaves. Her eyes were white and opened wide. Her clothing, torn and ragged, hung loose around her petite body. She reached out a hand toward Lucy, the nails broken and bloody. Lucy saw purple marks around the woman's slender throat. 

“Oh,” Lucy gasped.

 _”Help ME!”_ , her mouth didn’t move, the words were coming from every direction. 

“What is your name?” Lucy kept her voice even while her heart threatened to rip from her chest. She had done this thousands of time, but each time was different. 

Since she was young she had known that she was different. Her grandmother helped her understand her gift, even while her mother condemned it. Lucy was never allowed to talk about the ghosts that walked around and she wasn’t supposed to tell others what the ghosts said to her. Her grandmother helped her control her gift and accept that her calling was helping others. When she was a sophomore in college, she made plans to meet her grandmother and they would travel around helping people. On her way to tell her mother she had received a phone call, her grandmother had a massive stroke and was in a coma. Lucy rushed to Rittenhouse Hospital, making it in time to say goodbye. Her spirit had kissed her cheek and told Lucy she would see her on the other side. Lucy had lost herself in her studies and followed in her mother’s footsteps from there on. She ignored most of the spirits unless they were directly affecting her life. She had closed her eyes to their pain, even while it killed her to do so. 

But the woman in front of her now sent waves of sadness that crashed into Lucy. Tears streamed down both of their cheeks. Lucy could feel the woman's confusion and longing for someone, the feeling so strong that it felt as if Lucy had lost her own love. The woman moved closer, she flickered and disappeared. 

_”Find him,”_ the words echoed on the wind. 

The forest erupted in sound; birds flew from the trees and called into the night, insects buzzed and crickets sang. Lucy jumped when the radio sprang to life, the song was familiar, _I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side, Forever and ever._ It was a country song she remembered from high school, Lucy hadn’t heard it in years, but she would never forget, Amazed by Lonestar. Before her GPS had failed she had listened to a jazz and blues, Lucy had turned off the radio as soon as she realized she was lost. 

Lucy shook her head and ran her hand up and down her arms to chase away the chill. She wondered if this ghost would follow her, or if she was trapped in the area. Lucy wiped away the tears. Could she walk away after she felt her bones and heartache for some lost love? Lucy had never felt a love like the one the ghost had shoved into her mind, Lucy was not sure if she ever would. But whoever this woman had loved, it had been something special. Lucy couldn’t trap this spirit here when she knew could help her move on. Her decision made, Lucy climbed back in her car, the engine turned over without any problems.

Lucy looked down at her fully charged phone, she rolled her eyes and muttered, “damn ghost.”

She had no problem finding her way back to her small apartment. She knew she had a lot to do, but first she need that bath and a glass of wine. Lucy sank into the warm tub and pulled up a web search on her phone, prayed she didn’t drop her phone in the water. Her practical mind told her to make her accident report, but the hollow ache in her chest persisted she searched the empty stretch of road for her ghost. The image of a smiling blonde woman filled her phone, under the headline **Soldier’s Wife Found Dead,** the story was from February, 12, 2012. Lucy put her phone down and sank into the warm water. It had been five years since the woman’s body had been found, and now Lucy was supposed to knock on some soldier’s door and tell him his wife was looking for him. If she was lucky she would only get the door slammed in her face. Tonight she would relax and enjoy her wine, tomorrow would come soon enough. 

“I hope this Wyatt Logan is open minded and understanding,” Lucy grumbled to herself.


	2. Tech Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you need a little help, call for Tech Support

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so blessed to have the right support, that keeps me moving and writing. I'd never be in the right tense without them.

 

**_The hardest part about being able to talk to spirits is talking to the living, I’ve always been better with the dead than the living. I have been laughed at, criticized and practically pushed out of homes. My grandmother had amazed me with her ease at bringing credibility and comfort to the families. Besides my grandmother and sister only one other person had truly accepted me and my gifts, Rufus Carlin. Of course after saving his life, he owed me._ **

 

* * *

 

It had been three years earlier, Lucy had been driving home from Stafford, when she spotted a car stopped in the middle of the train tracks. There was a man inside banging on the windows. A short chubby, grey haired balding man, with round glasses and dressed  all in black, stood outside the car laughing. The man in the car screams escalated as she got closer but he never looked at the man beside his window.

 

It had been months since she dared talk to a ghost. The last one had sang _Cotton Eyed Joe_  for two days straight until she admitted she could not only see him but help him find the light. That spirit had been an annoying but a kind old man that just wanted to tell his wife where he left his wedding ring. But this spirit looked mean and strong if he was holding the man trapped in the car.  
Lucy pulled her car behind the stranded one, she ignored the laughing man and stepped out of her car and ran to the passenger door.

 

“Hey, what’s your name? Can you get out?” She called.

 

The spirit went silent and moved around the car toward her. She didn’t dare look up, but Lucy felt the hair on her arms stand up. Shadows fell around her an icy wind lifted her hair and she shivered. The dark man was directly behind her, touching her, she felt her hands go numb and exhaustion crashed down upon her. She knew he was feeding off her energy, she needed to get the man free and get away from this evil man.

“Rufus, I don't know what happened,  the car just stopped and the doors won’t open. Do you have anything that can break the window or open the door?” Rufus said in agitation.

 

 _”Walk away pretty little girl, this is my business. Or I’ll make you my business,”_  the voice was sharp and cold. Spoken directly against her ear. Lucy flinched, unable to stand the touch of the dark man. She prayed that it went unnoticed. _”You feel me, don’t you?”_  he said with dark glee.

 

“Rufus, my name is Lucy. I have something that can break the window. Hold on.” Lucy assured.

 

She ran back to her car, her last boyfriend had been a paramedic and for a birthday gift he got her a emergency tool with a window punch. He made her promise to keep it in her car at all times. Jim Clancy had been a sweet guy and in another life she might have agreed to marry him. But when her mother got sick she moved away to help Amy take care of their mother and she stopped calling Jim within a few months. Amy spent long hours talking about her extensive passionate love life and had asked Lucy if she had ever really been in love. Lucy was starting to believe the kind of love Amy described was a myth created by writers and imagined by artist.

 

Lucy grabbed the window punch and ran back to the silver Prius. Jim had showed her how to use it after he gave it to her. Some people might think it was a silly gift, those would be the ones that didn't know about her accident. A spirit had materialized in front of her moving car and surprised her. She went off the road, over the side of a bridge into the water. The car filled up quickly and she couldn't get the door open, the automatic window wouldn't go down. She had sank further under water, until everything went black. She watched as a young man in a military uniform splashed and dove into the water. He broke the glass with a knife, pulled her out of the window, and dragged her onto the shore. He blew air into her lungs and pressed on her chest to make her heart beat again. She saw the light and her grandmother waiting for her and she turned away from the man. A voice pulled her attention back.

 

“I'm not going to give up on you, so you better damn well not give up on me.” his voice strong and commanding.

 

Lucy was moving before the thought even entered her mind. The next thing she knew were bright blue eyes, wet hair and half a smile. She was about to speak, but her body chose to hurl out every drop of water she drank on his boots. He rubbed her back until her shoulders stopped shaking and the paramedics arrived. Her eyes were heavy and her vision blurred from tears, she couldn’t see her rescuer, only a shape and a warm hand. She held onto him until the medics pulled her away. She tried to express her gratitude but her throat was raw and she couldn’t control the coughing.

 

The paramedics never got his name, according to the police reports, the soldier had left before giving a statement. She looked for him for months but never found him. She regretted never being able to thank him, tell him that he brought her back. Even now after eight years had passed she dreamed of bright blue eyes and dark lashes watching over her, telling her to keep going. The dreams were how Jim found out, he'd been woken up by her panic cries. He assumed it had been from being inside the car, but Lucy knew that it was more than being trapped it was the feeling she forgot something important.

 

Lucy shook herself out the memories, she spent enough time in the past.

 

“Rufus, move  to the other side, and cover your head,” Lucy directed.

 

She wrapped her jacket around her hand, covered her eyes, turned her face and placed the tool to the corner of the window and pressed. The window shattered, the pieces were forced back into her face. The glass shards cut at her exposed skin,  Lucy screamed, took cover behind her hands. Violent rancid air whipped the glass against her and around her.

 

“ _I warned you, girl_ . _This is not your business,_ ” the dark man raged on.

 

“I’m making it my business now, you crazy son of a bitch. Stop this now!” she screamed into the wind.

A jacket landed over her head, “take my hand, the glass is only after you.” Rufus hollered and took her hand. “Huh? Does that sound as crazy as I think it did? What the hell is going on? I've never seen a phenomenon like this before. Well I also never thought I'd get locked in my car before either.”

Lucy stumbled after Rufus, her eyes on his white shoes. Glass blasted past them, peppered her car door. Rufus tried to cover them both but the knee length cotton dress had no protection.

 

“I said stop,” Lucy shrieked, she launched out of Rufus’ protection and turned toward the man. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“ _So not only can you feel me, you can also see and hear me. Oh you pretty little thing, imagine what fun we will have.”_

 

“Give me your name and maybe I'll help you,” Lucy demanded.

 

Rufus watched her with one raised brow, he didn't ask, he didn't laugh, he only watched. His hand rested on her shoulder ready to pull her back if need be. Lucy had never had someone trust her so completely without question.

 

 _“I do not take orders  from a little girl,”_ it snapped and hissed. _“I am the Clockmaker and I give the orders, and I order you and your dog, off my land,”_ he snarled _._

 

“Public road, this land belongs to no one,” Lucy corrected.

 

He flickered and faded before appearing directly in front of her, nose pressed to her cheek. The smell of sewage and rot made her nauseous but she stood her ground.

 

This close he is almost the same height as her, his round face pale and shadowed. He tilts his head the the side with a sneer.  

 

 _“Come closer girl, my eyes aren't what they used to be.”_ Lucy held her ground, without comment. The man moved around her, ghostly cold fingers reach for her face. She snapped her face away. “ _You have good, strong teeth. Good skull proportion.”_

 

“Stop,” Lucy demanded. Disgusted by his slimy clinical tone. He must have done this in life, treated women like livestock.

 

“ _Your hips are a bit narrow, but nobody's perfect. Have you reproduced yet?"_

 

Lucy lifted her chin, turned to look him in the eye.

 

“ _No, I’d guess by your silence. Good. But don't worry, my girl. We'll still find a good use for you._ ” He mocked.

“Maybe you hadn't noticed but you are dead. By your clothing, I'd say late 1700. It’s time you move on and leave us alone.” Lucy demanded.

 

“ _I would have your dog sentenced to death, in my time. But you... would have been brought to my bedchamber,_ ” he purred. “ _Maybe I can still lock you away."_

 

“You have no power over me Clockmaker. You are nothing more than dust and bones. Even now I can, you are starting to dim, unable to pull more power from around you. The longer you stay, the weaker you get. You, Clockmaker seem like the kind of man that can’t abide weakness. You are nothing more that a parlor trick with bad breath.”

 

Rufus chuckled behind her, he couldn’t hear half the conversation but he knew when someone was getting burned.

" _David Rittenhouse will not be talked to like this_ ,” He roared and flickered.

 

“Of course you talk about yourself in the third person. Do yourself a favor move on and let go, no one is mourning your loss.”

 

“Damn girl,” Rufus whistled.

 

Cold wind rose around them, and then suddenly died. The flickering spirit of David Rittenhouse disappeared with a roar of frustration. Rufus’ car's tail lights flickered on and the birds and insects started to sing. Rufus looked around, in wonder. Offered up his hand in the air, Lucy chuckled and slapped it.

 

“Lucy, I’m about eighty percent sure that you are a badass,” Rufus proclaimed.

 

“What’s the other twenty?” She wondered.

 

“That you’re crazy, and made me imagine everything that happened here tonight.” Rufus shrugged.

 

Lucy laughed, “Well at least you're honest.”

 

“Either way I am pretty sure I owe you coffee,” he offered. “Maybe a few stories to help ease my curiosity.”

 

“Are you sure, you know what it did to the cat?” Lucy chimed in.

 

“I’ll take my chances,” Rufus assured.

 

Rufus Carlin and Lucy became fast friends. Together they looked into David ‘the Clockmaker’ Rittenhouse. He was the leader of a group of people that wanted to overthrow the government. He was killed in 1788, by a tall stranger working for President George Washington. His house was burned and his slaves set free. He was survived by one son, who slowly went crazy in the hollowed out grounds of Rittenhouse plantation.  The killer was never found or identified.

 

Lucy was able to confide her true nature, Rufus only supported and believed her. His friendship and support were a welcome relief to the years of solitude with only her sister to keep her sane. She called him, when she knew a it was going to be a difficult <em> _spiritual transition </em> _as he called it. He also helped with research, and making family contact. He knew that she was hesitant to get fully involved with the spirits but he helped whenever she called, as long as they stayed far away from the Rittenhouse.

 

* * *

 

In the week since encountering the spirit form of Jessica Logan, Lucy had failed in locating the husband. She knew he was still active duty ARMY, but she couldn’t find out where he was stationed. She tried to contact the other surviving family members for more information. But they either ignored her calls or had moved. It had been five years, Lucy knew a lot of things can change in five years.

 

She was left with only one other option, time to call in her Tech guy.

 

“Rufus Carlie,” he answered on the first ring, “Tech support and amature ghost hunter. How may I direct your call? For tech press one? For Ghostbusting please say Boo three times.”

 

Lucy held the button down for an instant, “Boo, boo, booooo.” She drew out the last one, with a flourish.

 

“Lucy Preston, always a pleasure when you put up with me. What do you got for me today? Are you still in San Diego? I promised Jiya that we’d come down for a visit next month, so you better have a big enough place for us.”

 

Lucy loved, her fast talking friend. The only time she ever came close enough was when she was talking about history. His long time girlfriend, Jiya was amazing and never made Lucy feel strange or crazy. She admitted to having strange experiences when she was a child. Lucy explained that children were more open to the world around them, and that most imaginary friends may have actually been spirits. Rufus wasn’t sure he liked knowing that fact but he shook it off, since his little brother had one named Anthony for years.

 

“My place is tiny and Jiya, could barely fit much less sleep on the couch. But the floor is always open to you.” Lucy would never turn them away. “I’m looking for a guy.”

 

“Hallelujah! It’s about damn time, Jiya and I were just talking about your lack of a love life. We hate that you're always alone, especially since you're so far away. We have this great guy that we want you to meet...” Rufus would have rambled on.

 

Lucy loudly cleared her throat, cutting him off. “I am not talking about a guy for me. I’m talking about a guy for a ghost.”

 

“Ah yeah, should have known. Are you back to helping again? I know you only get involved when you have too. Side note you really should meet this guy.” Rufus encouraged.

 

“I don’t need some guy, I need this **guy**. This spirit, Jessica is strong, she’s not dangerous but she's affecting me.” Lucy trails off.

 

Everyday since the first encounter she’d been plagued by the same dream. She stood on a hillside under a large oak tree. The landscape was unfamiliar and yet it felt like a long forgotten memory. Lucy stood in a knee length pink, silk dress with long sleeves and a modest neckline. Lucy’s heart pounded, her fingers trembled, she was both excited and nervous. She didn't know why, but she knew she had to wait. Lightning shot from the heavens striking and splitting the oak tree. Lucy tried to run but every direction she turned was rapidly rising water, her only option was up the broken tree. One side crumbled to ash while the other stood, not as tall as before but still standing. Lucy placed her hand on the low hanging branch and pulled herself up and out of the dream.

 

Lucy would wake up gasping and with longing so fierce she cried, every morning she cried.

 

“How bad is she affecting you?” Rufus’ concern obvious.

 

“Just dreams mostly, and then a constant sense that I forgot something and it's hard to focus.” Lucy explained.

 

She down played the urgent feeling she felt, the sense that she was running out of time. She didn't understand why now after five years it was so imperative that she find this lost soldier. But she had to do something soon.

 

Lucy shook her head, she tried to focus in on Rufus’ words like an anchor. The constant loss of focus was another reason she needed this spirit to move on. Lucy was single minded and not prone to distraction, at least she used to be a week ago.

 

“Give me the details, who are we looking for?”

 

“Sergeant First Class, Wyatt Logan, with the ARMY. Wife was Jessica Logan, murdered five years ago. Killer never found, husband's story and alibi checked out. He was cleared as a suspect. He was stationed here in San Diego at the time of her death, but I can't find him. Find him. Do the magic? Do the magic?” Lucy sing-songed.

 

“First your boy got a promotion, it's Master Sergeant Logan.”

 

“He’s not my boy,” Lucy muttered but it went ignored.

 

“This guy's is a highly decorated Delta Force solider. He’s been on or part of a lot of top

clearance missions, most of the logs are blacked out or redacted. No wonder you couldn't find him, he’s practically a ghost himself. Since the wife died, his mission count went up. My guess is he prefers to be out doing something, kicking ass and taking names. He was recently injured on a mission, the only thing that's not blacked out is, Logan had thrown himself in front of a bullet to protect a mother and her kids.” Rufus trailed off.

 

“How long ago was he shot?” Lucy’s stomach was in knots.

 

“Just over a week ago. Luce, he’s in town, I’m sending you the address now, but be careful.  I don’t think he's going to like what you have to say.”

 

“I got to try, Rufus. His injury, must have woken her up, started this whole ball rolling. I just need to stay on my toes and not get crushed in the process.”

 

“That's exactly what I’m afraid of. Call me when you're clear or I’m sending the cops in.”

 

“Yes, I know the drill. Twenty minutes or you're sending in the cavalry.” Lucy tried to suppress her grin.

 

“Damn straight, good luck.”

 

Lucy hung up the phone, she looked at the email Rufus had sent with the information and known address. Lucy gasped and almost dropped her phone. He lived a few buildings down, she had tried to get an apartment there but the last one had been rented out. It was a strange coincidence, at least Lucy didn't have to look it up.

 

She looked down at herself, stonewash jeans a white V-neck tee, she grabbed her cozy sweater, she couldn't seem to get warm lately. Slipped on her white keds and grabbed her purse. She shot off a text to Rufus and explained she'd make contact tonight. He replied with a picture of a stop watch. She sent back, to start it in ten.

 

Lucy, hummed as she walked, the now too familiar Lonestar song, that she couldn’t get out of her head. She felt nervous she was hopeful that she could get this resolved tonight. A quick, ‘Hey your dead wife wants me to tell you, to take better care of yourself. She’s worried you’ll join her too soon.’ Maybe Lucy needed to work on her speech a bit more. She turned back toward her building, a car with its windows down played the same song, it kept getting louder, even as the driver tried to turn it off. A flicker of  blonde caught Lucy’s eye, down the street staring at her was Jessica. She waved her arms and pointed frantically, she flooded Lucy’s mind with piercing wails.

 

Lucy threw her strap off her shoulder and ran toward the building. Wyatt Logan was on the third floor and no working elevator. Lucy’s hair stood up all over her body as Jessica brushed past her. The anxiety, tightened her chest, shortened her breath and made her see stars.

 

She had no idea what she’d find, but it sure wasn’t a man slumped against the wall on the third floor a few feet from Wyatt’s door. He was in his early thirties. His legs crossed at the ankles and arms crossed his chest. His head was down, eyes closed. He was wearing clean jeans, a grey thermal shirt, flannel shirt and a green canvas work jacket. He had brown hair, a few days old scruff and dark shadows under his eyes.

 

“Are you sleeping?” Lucy gulped, trying to ease the pounding in her chest.

 

“No, Ma’am,” he replied with a drawl, eyes still closed.

 

“Do you know you're, _not sleeping_  in the middle of a hallway” Lucy pushed.

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” he taunted.

 

“You know we are practically the same age, so you can stop calling me ma’am,” Lucy snapped.

 

Startling blue eyes, met hers, and he gave her a slow half smile, more of a smirk. He stared at Lucy, without a word. She gulped and turned away from him. She moved closer to step over his legs, but he pulled back at the last second, startling her. Lucy moved around him, walked to apartment 3A and knocked. She heard the man behind her rise, and shuffle closer.

 

“He’s not home,” he clipped.

 

Lucy turned, he was closer than she expected and she was forced to take a step back.

 

“Do-do you know when he’ll be back?” Lucy gulped. She didn’t know why he made her so nervous.

 

“Depends on what you want with him,” he retorted. His eyes skimmed down her body, slow and obvious. She felt he was trying to make her uncomfortable for some reason.

 

“Just to talk,” she responded.

 

“He’s not much of a talker, so might be better if you forget about an interview, Ma’am,” he sneered.

 

“Oh I’m not a reporter, just someone that wants to talk about his wife Jessica,” Lucy offered.

 

“Did you know her?” He countered.

 

So the guys knew enough about Logan to know his wife was dead. “Not really, but I have a message for him.” Lucy pulled out her business cards and slipped one under the door and handed the other to the man who stood less than a foot away. With his eyes open and so close she realized he was good looking.

 

“What message?” he said harshly.

 

Lucy was surprised he cared so much, she didn’t think she would ever meet her neighbors much less glare and scare of strangers for them. This guy was, even hotter when his face dark and flushed as he leaned down. But she refused to be intimidated, no matter how attrative she found him.

 

“I’ll tell him in person, thank you very much.” Lucy snapped.

 

He stepped forward his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. He shoved it open and pointed.

 

“Doors open Ma’am I don’t have all day,” he barked.

 

“You are Master Sergeant Wyatt Logan?” Lucy gaped.

 

“Time is wasting, Ma’am if you want to talk you have five minutes.”

 

Wyatt Logan stepped into the apartment and went straight to the kitchen. He reached up, hissed, placed a hand on his side and tried again. He didn't look at her while he poured a two finger shot of bourbon, drank it and poured another. She started to realize why he was in the hallway. There was no way she was going to get the wounded soldier to listen to her. She wondered if she gave him the message would Jessica let her sleep again and leave her alone. Lucy stepped over the threshhold, took a deep breath and took the second shot out of his hands and drank it. She coughed and wheezed as the drink burned down her throat. Wyatt watched her his half smile back for an instant and gone.

 

Lucy could do this, she turned, looked him in the eye, “My name is Lucy Preston and I’ve been looking for you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me @MISSYriver

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me @MISSYriver
> 
> Come cry with me.


End file.
